ach performer has about
eighteen inches of standing room, and on that space must be enacted in
hopeless pantomime the intricate evolutions of the quadrille, or the
rotatory struggles of the waltz. Sliding and smiling, and edging and
crushing, the conscientious dancers try to fulfil their duties, and
much confusion and begging of pardons are the natural results.

However, it's a rare place for love-making. What with the music and
the crowd and the confusion, the difficulty is more to make out what
one's partner _does_ say than to prevent his being overheard by other
people; but, I must confess, if anybody had anything very particular
to say to _me_, I had rather hear it in the quiet country by
moonlight, or even coming home from Greenwich by water--or anywhere,
in short, rather than in the turmoil of a London ball. But that's all
nonsense; and I hope I have too much pride to allow any man to address
me in such a strain. Trust me for setting him down!

It's no wonder, then, that I was cross when I was dressing for Lady
Horsingham's ball; and that silly Gertrude (that's my maid's name, and
what a name it is for a person in that class of life!) put me more and
more out of patience with her idiotic conversation, which she tries to
adapt to my tastes, and of which the following is a specimen:----

"Master John will be at her ladyship's ball, miss, I make no doubt;"
brushing away the while at my back hair, and pulling it unnecessarily
hard; no maid ever yet had a "light hand."

No answer. What business is it of hers, and why should she call him
_Master John?_ Gertrude tries again: "You look pale to-night, miss;
you that generally has such a colour. I'm afraid you're tired with
your ride."

"Not a bit of it--only sleepy. Why, it's time one was in bed."

"Lor, miss, I shouldn't want to go to bed, not if I was going to a
ball. But I think you like 'orse exercise best; and to be sure, your
'orse is a real beauty, Miss Kate."

The very name of Brilliant always puts me in good humour, so, of
course, I can but answer, "_That_ he is, Gertrude, and as good as he's
handsome;" on which my voluble handmaid goes off again at score.

"That's what I say, miss, when I see him coming round to the door,
with his long black tail and his elegant shape and his thin legs."
_Thin legs!_--I can't stand that; to hear my beautiful Brilliant's
great strong legs called _thin_, as if he were made of paper. I feel I
am getting savage again, so I c